Back Home
by smalltowngal
Summary: Lenalee misses the paper lanterns. More than that, she misses her brother.


**This idea actually came to me around the Mid-Autumn Festival*, in October. I'd have posted it sooner, but I was freaking out about my exam results then…and let me tell you, stress is THE worst writer's block ever.**

**Some KandaxLenalee friendship. If you squint.**

**Disclaimer: -gives the reader a dictionary-**

There was one mysterious thing that, amidst all the desperation and longing for her brother, hung over Lenalee's thoughts during her early days at the Black Order.

What were those strange glowing bird cages? She saw them every time she got caught trying to escape. She always timed her escapes at night, when the inky cloak of blackness provided the best cover possible.

Not the _best_ cover, she thought to herself years later, with a wry smile, because every time, without fail, as she giddily told herself she was _free, _she didn't have anything to do with _exorcists _or _Innocence _or whatever those men who had taken her away from her brother wanted…

She'd feel arms ensnaring her, fingernails brutally clawing at her flesh, and if she made one last desperate bid for freedom, they would just wind around her even tighter.

_I'm scared I'm scared __**I'm scared. **__Where's my brother? _

And she'd be temporarily blinded by the yellowish-white glare of the light emitted from the bird cage.

Then it would sink in: another escape _attempt _to add to her list of failures.

Once she'd kicked out at the bird cage, and it had shattered. The finder holding it had yelled out in surprise and pain, and he'd loosened his grip on her for one second. Just one second that gave her one more chance at going back home, to her brother's side...

The glass shards at her feet dug painfully into her soles, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Not for the world.

But her childish legs would never have managed to get her safely away from the men chasing her, and with the fresh cuts on her feet stinging painfully every time they made contact with the ground, they caught up to her in _seconds._

She'd tried stabbing herself with one of the shards.

And she fell peacefully asleep, like she never had before. Not since she'd been brought to this dismal place, that-people tried to tell her-was her new _home._

She was chained to her bed. She'd screamed and thrashed about and sobbed when she woke up and found that despite everything, she still wasn't _home. _Not truly.

She stopped after a while, though. Not because she'd given up, because she was simply too worn out.

Her eyelids closed.

When they opened again, her brother was there.

He was smiling.

"_I'm here." _

And she cried, but this time, her tears were entirely different from all the tears shed from all those times she'd been captured.

--

A few months later, she asked her brother what those bird cages were.

He chuckled, and told her they weren't bird cages at all, but _deng long, _or lanterns.

She frowned.

Lanterns brought light to people, didn't they? They didn't suddenly shatter into a million pieces. They didn't cut people.

They didn't wreck carefully-laid escape plans. They didn't separate anyone from their family.

Back home (for China was still her home, and always would be, even with her brother here with her, even with the new friends she'd made, including a slightly feminine-looking swordsman-in-training) lanterns were made of paper, wound around a metal frame. A candle was placed in the middle of it.

Sure, the candle's flame would blow out far too easily, but one of the things she'd loved about the red lanterns hanging out side her home was the task of making sure the candle was kept alight.

She'd loved making her own lantern with her brother on Zhong Qiu Jie* as well. She'd loved the stories behind the festival even more. Back then, lanterns meant something special, precious to her.

But here at the Black Order, they were a mere necessity for seeing in the dark.

She told this to her brother, and he looked uncharacteristically serious for a moment or two. Then after that, he seemed to forget about what she had said, which, again, was uncharacteristic.

But he didn't forget.

On the fifteenth day of the eighth month of the Chinese lunar calendar, the Black Order was lit up with the red glow of dozens of lanterns. The paper kind, the kind that didn't wound others when it broke-and it didn't.

The kind which had a flame that was easily blown out and yet could burn on for hours, even days if handled properly.

The kind from back home that Lenalee had dearly missed.

"Thank you!" she shrieked, running into her brother's arms.

And he laughed, and so did all her friends looking on. (Kanda was the exception, but he smiled. Or more accurately, quirked up the corners of his mouth for about half a second.)

And she basked in the glow of the lanterns and her new family's smiles.

And she knew she was home.

***Mid-Autumn Festival: Same as Zhong Qiu Jie. There are a **_**lot **_**of stories about its origins, so I'd recommend Wikipedia.**

**Was it cheesy or clichéd in some parts? Did you get the hidden meanings? Pray tell. Click the sacred review button.**


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